​This poem was sent to me by a friend. She wrote:
     “We went to a concert at the Boston Wagner Society. One of the pieces was a Lieder by Franz Liszt based on a Poem by Goethe.  When I read it I thought of you:
 
 Joyful and sorrowful

                      Joyful and sorrowful,
                      full of gratitude.
                      Longing and anxious
                      In constant anguish;
                      Sky-high rejoicing
                      despairing to death.
                      Happy alone is the soul
                      that loves.

     OMG, is this my first post in October? Yes! Well, my jetlag is over and I’m back on the seesaw that goes up and down between silence, solitude, and simplicity, and activity out in the world. Actually the ride is steady and well-balanced for the most part. That’s the way my life is these days; that’s’ the way I want it to be.
    The social seat of the seesaw finds me volunteering at Open Table, where I help seniors select their weekly food, which includes fresh produce from local farms. Then there are church activities, folks to visit, as well as keeping up with friends and family. The solitude seat finds me walking, reading, knitting, and puttering around the house. Currently this puttering is picking up velocity as we get ready rent another dumpster (our fourth?) and let go of more stuff. The plan is to have our house more or less ready to put on the market should the desire or need arise. BTW, we have no immediate plans for that.
    So there it is, my latest status report. Oh, one more thing. I had slacked off on my reading, especially when in Italy, but I’m back now. My 2019 Goodreads  Reading Challenge is 80 (the birthday I will celebrate in December). To date I’ve read 48; I’m on schedule. 

​I’m almost finished with jet lag. My strategy is to stay in bed for eight hours, even when I wake up earlier and really want to get going with the day. Last night I went to bed at 9 and got up at 5 t, so I’m just about spot on with my usual routine. 
      In Florence, walking was an essential part of my daily schedule; I averaged between six and eight miles a day. Now that I’m home, I’m lucky if I log in half of that.  A daily walk is still on my daily agenda, although the number of miles get in is cut in half.
     Getting our EVERY day for a walk, even if it’s a short one, will keep it a part of the rhythm of my life. Habit is essential. To put it simply and clearly, if I don’t walk, I don’t walk! –even if it is just up the street or around the block. The bigger challenge is to step out every day when weather stops being as appealing as it is now in New England.

• This morning I climbed Duomo. It was at least my 25th climb. I wasn’t the fastest, but I could keep up.
• Half the tourists here are Asian. Good thing, because they SHOP.
• Cyclists are the number one hazard in Il Centro.
• Women are still writing in journals. The woman next to me at the cafe has been writing in small notebook for at least thirty minutes. She has 12 Rules for Life, by Jordan B. Peterson on the table next to her coffee. Maybe she writing her rules. I wanted to strike up a conversation with her, but one of my rules is to honor people’s privacy, and that what I sense she wants. Thus, also no photograph.
• The Ponte Vecchio is less crowded with tourists in the fall than in the spring.
• Locks of Love are still being attached to the fence around the statue of Cellini on the Ponte Vecchio. 

​Yesterday the rain came and went, as it does in Florence. I was able to plan around it and NOT buy an umbrella.  I spent about two hours in the Museo del Duomo, which was  completely refurbished a few years ago. On the first floor is an amazing display of sculpture laid out as it might have been during the 14th and 15th century before Archduke Francis I demolished the facade for a high Renaissance one. Appropriate music throughout encouraged visitors to be calm and subdued as they might be in a church. The second floor is dedicated to the building of the dome, as well as displaying the original sculpture from the bell tower.

(Having trouble again posting pictures. Will try later._

​My plan this week is to write in some of the cafes that I’ve discovered over the years. This isn’t some farewell tour but part of my plan to stay in the moment.
     Today I’m at the Fellrinelli bookstore’s RED café, looking at the surroundings with ‘new’ eyes. Hmm, to begin with, everything seems bright, which may have to do with my recent cataract surgery. But more than physically new, new means really looking and observing and taking what I see into my mind and then into my heart.
    For example, two couples are enjoying coffee and conversation together. One man is looking intently at the woman talking; the other is looking around the café but then returns to the conversation.
     This is NOT a music story; it is a book store; Reading is visual. So much for my new eyes to take in--attractive displays of books for young children, more cookbooks than you need, but we all know the joy of a new one. And then there is the ceiling, purposely unfinished, a contrast to the lively, colorful, dynamic café.
    Why do I even consider posting this little personal experience of trying out my ‘new’ eyes? Granted, it’s not particularly interesting or memorable. I do so with the hope that it will open up some new way of seeing for you while also helping me remember to keep my eyes open. The good news is that blogs are freely offered, freely received. A captive audience is not part of blog language. 
     The good news: the problem posting photos resolved itself.

     Each day in Florence I’m looking for a surprise, the unexpected. Two days ago it was the “Ai Piedi Nudi” art exhibit in the cloister of SS. Annunziata. The cloister is usually not open to the public; the priest-artist, Nicolo Santamarina, was there to welcome people.
      Yesterday it was that I couldn’t post photos onto the blog. Unfortunately that pretty much continues, although this morning I snuck one on. Something freezes…no picture. It may be that my blog is too loaded after ten years of posting pretty much every other day. I’ve contacted my web site builder.
     This morning, therefore, I considered stopping by the Apple Store for help. But there it was, with my surprise of the day. At 7:15 a line had formed in front, a kiosk with juice and water was set up for those in line, and fifteen men were stationed guarding the store,. There must have been twenty people waiting for the store’s ten o’clock opening, waiting for the launch of iPhone 11.
    I just was able to post this picture. Very grateful. I'm going to check back in to see how the iPhone 11 is selling. Will back on line, hopefully with more pictures.

​I am happy to be in Renaissance Florence after six days in Ancient and Counter-Reformation Rome. Tomorrow I look forward to stepping into a Renaissance church. Oh, I love Rome, its vastness, bus system, the Tiber, and ruins popping up everywhere. I prayed for peace in 36 of its 900 churches, so there is still work to do there, unless peace comes soon. I hope to return.
      Here in Florence I will continue to pray for peace; the city is small and compact, so I will come upon churches with ease. My goal for the eight nights I’m here, however, is to wander about and seize the moment. I have a favorite places to visit for each of the seven days: The Uffizi, Bargello, San Marco, climb the Duomo, Duomo Museo, Fiesole, Santa Maria Novella. That’s one a day, giving plenty of time to wander. Oh dear, I just added another, San Miniato al Monte.
     Here’s what I mean by wander and seize the moment. Just this afternoon I discovered that the cloister of SS. Annunziata was open to the public. It is always closed unless there is an art exhibit, Ai piedi nudi” (in bare feet) . The priest-artist, Nicolo Santamarina, was there to greet us. 

​No solitary traveling for me yesterday. Two long-time friends and I took the Metro and then a local bus to Tivoli to visit the fountains at Villa d’Este. Water power at its best. For a moment I could forget hurricanes, flood, drought, pollution. 
​      “The villa occupies the site of an old Benedictine convent. In the 16th century, the estate was developed by Cardinal Ippolito d”Este, son of Lucrizia Borgia (Eyewitness Rome Travel Guide, 1997). 

​Three more churches yesterday morning, and the count was up to ten. Sant’ Agnese fuori le Mura and Santa Costanza are in the same complex outside the walls. Outside the walls because Sant’ Agnese has as a catacomb, where early Christians were buried. Rome had a policy that no one could be buried inside the city. Then to gaze at Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Teresa in Santa Maria della Vittoria. I’m glad I had my bus pass. In the afternoon I found myself praying for me in seven more churches. As of last night the count is up to twenty.
     My intention to pray for peace in churches has me aware of all the people I pass along the streets. The sheer numbers, the multiple skin colors, body sizes, ages, languages. I am not other; I am one of them. Our uniqueness makes us one.
      And then there are the obviously loving people, most likely parents, who accompany their children with special needs. At the altar at the Church of San Giovanni in Laterano a mom was supporting her adult son who was draped on her. As he drooled, she wiped his mouth. Then they walked on, arm in arm.
     As I sit in this little park in the early morning it comes over me that regardless of what praying for peace means to each of us, when we think peace we become aware of the equanimity between all people. In wanting peace for myself, I have to want it for everyone.